


inferno

by halfcharacter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Magical Realism, The Divine Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15874299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfcharacter/pseuds/halfcharacter
Summary: Ever since the fall, sleeping had not come easy.





	inferno

**Author's Note:**

  * For [besselfcn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besselfcn/gifts).



> Thank you so much for your donation! I went super overboard with this but I hope you like it!
> 
> Prompt was “nightmares”.

Ever since the fall, sleeping had not come easy.  
  
The air was hot and still in the night, and Jesse, though already stripped down to nothing but a loose undershirt and his boxers, could not rest. The weight of it, the sticky dampness, clung to his skin and pressed upon him as though it were the lid of a coffin, sealed above him in preparation for his own funeral.  
  
When he did at last drift off to sleep, driven by pure exhaustion, it was fitful and unsettling.  
  
He stood in the middle of the desert, bare toes pressed against the dusty ground. Clad in nothing but his sleepwear, he shivered. Deserts at night were cold. Always so cold.

An owl shrieked overhead, and Jesse looked around him. Nothing. Nothing but endless nothing. The owl shrieked again, and this time Jesse could understand.  
  
_Follow,_ the owl said. _Follow._  
  
So he followed.  
  
He followed the owl’s cries down through a narrow gorge, past hissing snakes and the whisper of shrivelled stalks of grass. Then, at his feet was an opening in the rock. A narrow pathway and steps leading down.  
  
Jesse hesitated. The owl appeared in front of him, and gazed at him with one eye milky blind as if judging him worthy. Then, apparently satisfied, it flew off into the night.

As he took a hesitant step down, the first thing he became aware of was the heat. Pleasant at first, but becoming more and more uncomfortable as he went lower and lower.  


* * *

   
Jesse descended; Dante to the Inferno. The rock became narrower and narrower, heat building and rock face sharpening, scratching the skin of his palms and legs. A few times he stumbled, and thought he could hear the distant piercing cry of an owl, hunting for its prey. After an eternity, the passageway widened again, depositing Jesse into a stiflingly hot chamber of stalagmites that seemed to flicker in and out of vision if he turned this way and that.

“ _Woe_ ,” said a voice from behind him. He spun around in surprise, grasping for a non-existent gun in a non-existent holster. “Woe,” said the voice again, and this time Jesse could see it; a tiny sparrow with dark gunmetal wings. It sat on the back of a dog that was half starved and covered in dirt. As Jesse approached nervously, he could see that the dog had slashes of pale fur underneath the thick layer of grime. It was muzzled with a heavy iron muzzle, and thick ropes of scars covered its worn face. As Jesse got too close, it growled low and menacing.

“Woe,” muttered the sparrow sadly, and Jesse turned and fled.

He stumbled through the dingy caverns, wiping sweat from his brow and wincing at the bite of sharp rocks under his feet. A large one caught him by surprise, and he tripped and nearly fell.

Jesse stared up into the face of a fox, fur the colour of flame.

“Have you come?” it asked in a lilting voice, picking at its teeth with wickedly sharp claws. “Have you come to see the king?”

“What king?” Jesse croaked, realizing for the first time how parched his throat was. The fox laughed, and its laugh was familiar.

“Why, the _king_!” it exclaimed. “The king of hell, lord of the condemned and damned.”

“Where am I?” Jesse asked, as a low churning rumble began from somewhere further in, the noise digging right into his skull. “What is this place?”

The fox shook its head and danced away. Jesse swiped at it blindly, but it was too quick, disappearing in a haze of purple smoke. He continued on, and soon came to a precipice above a deep chasm, so far down that there seemed to be no bottom.

“Is this it?” Jesse called to no one in particular, voice echoing off the rocks. The rumbling grew louder, and the cavern hotter.

Then the ground crumbled from beneath him and he fell, plummeting down towards the pit.

But he did not land. Feeling nauseous and dizzy, Jesse realized he was now standing upon a small island of rock. Where before there had been light to see, now his eyes strained against the gloom.

A sharp rattling noise made him jump, and his eyes picked out a shadow in the distance. Cautiously he approached, and as he grew nearer it formed into a shape he recognized.

A throne of black rock, and upon it, the decomposing remains of a man. Shadows wrapped around the skeleton as if it were a cloak, and as Jesse grew close, it lifted its head wearily. The joints in its neck ground together and snapped with the movement, black ichor pouring from the ghastly empty sockets of its eyes.

“Jesse,” it rasped, clutching its shadows closer together as if to hide its own state of decomposition. “Jesse.”

“Who are you?” Jesse whispered, although he already knew the answer.

“Come closer,” it croaked. “Let me see your face.”

“No,” Jesse replied. “Not until you explain what this is and why I’m here.”

The skeleton sighed. Then it pushed itself up onto its feet, bones rattling with the exertion. Like an old man, the skeleton rose to its feet wearily and stood before him.

“I am dying,” the king said. “Every night, more of me crumbles into the dust. I need your help.”

Jesse frowned. “How could I possibly help you?” He took one step forward, then another, until he was within arm’s reach of the throne. The shadows extended from the skeleton and curled around his legs, caressing him with their freezing tendrils, poking and prodding as if shy. Jesse shivered, but did not pull away.

He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea why he was here, in this place, with these ghosts of years past.

Quick as lightning, the tendrils tightened around his ankles. Jesse struggled, but before he could pull himself free, the skeleton had formed a noose of black ichor and threw it around Jesse's neck, squeezing it tight.

“You are a fool, Jesse McCree,” the skeleton hissed. “You were always a fool.”

Jesse choked and struggled for air. The skeleton watched for a few moments, bemused, before loosening its grip a fraction.

“What happened to you?” Jesse managed to gasp, taking in a breath of precious air. “What happened to you, Gabriel?”

The noose tightened again. The skeleton king laughed.

“I died. I died, and now I’m taking you with me.”  


* * *

  
Jesse woke with a cry, clutching at his throat. Damp with sweat and tears, he ripped himself from his bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

He did not see the shadow that detached itself from the wall and slip out of the window into the night, tendrils of smoke in its wake.

Sleep did not come again that night.

**Author's Note:**

> [mcreyes4charity](https://twitter.com/mcreyes4charity)


End file.
